When the lambs gambol again,
Larks rejoice, roses glow,
The sickest heart must sing
And bloom even in wilting.

Who in anxious pains of life
Now flees the street alone,
Sings even from a sombre heart
As a song comes forth from clouds.

Who in exile, with eyes full of tears,
Now travels in foreign lands,
He now lets the song of his homeland
Ring out through bedewed flowers.

Rivers, freshly sown fields, resoundingly surge;
From the most distant blue of heaven
Wafts a singing, lovely ringing,
Over forest and bright meadow.

Old grief, now go away from here,
Do not anxiously fill this heart!
May into my heart from the parapets of heaven
Sunrise and songs of joy stream in.